


Happiness is a butterfly (a fragile, shortlived creature)

by Thalorighan



Series: Percabeth oneshots wrapped around music that shapes my life [6]
Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: Angst, Angst and Tragedy, Annabeth Chase/Percy Jackson Break Up, Annabeth Chase/Percy Jackson-centric, Break Up, Canon Compliant, Crying, Drama, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Memories, Men Crying, Mental Anguish, Mental Health Issues, One Shot, POV First Person, Past Annabeth Chase/Percy Jackson, Post-Canon, Snapshots, Yah this is not so nice, but - Freeform, reckless
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-02
Updated: 2021-02-02
Packaged: 2021-03-13 13:22:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29154252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thalorighan/pseuds/Thalorighan
Summary: Happiness is a butterflyAnd it is blue, like his soul and smile. Like her lips after they kiss.It is scarred and ugly, but it works, and--“Percy, it works. We can still fix this –”“There is no this anymore, Annabeth. It’s not good. You-“his anguish shakes the earth, “you cry yourself to sleep and it’s not good, wise-girl. I’m not good.” His fragile, mortal body trembles as he sinks to the floor when the door shuts. His muffled screams soak through his hands.------Or: Annabeth looking back on their relationship.
Relationships: Annabeth Chase/Percy Jackson
Series: Percabeth oneshots wrapped around music that shapes my life [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2109861
Kudos: 11





	Happiness is a butterfly (a fragile, shortlived creature)

**Author's Note:**

> Based on and inspired by 'Happiness is a butterfly' by Lana del Rey.

**_Do you want me or do you not?_ **

Oh baby, do you even know? Your eyes are torn, hands shaking as they curl close to your chest. Sadness floods your lungs and so the son of Poseidon drowns. But your whispered words don’t tremble, rippling across the floor.

“Go, Annabeth.” And so, I go. The door slams the way it always does.

**_I heard one thing, now I'm hearing another_ **

My sobs cling to the grey concrete walls of your staircase, cold creeping up brittle bones. Their shaking and groaning sounds like “how could this happen?”

The quivering of a cold heart answers with wailing.

**_Dropped a pin to my parking spot_ **

Too-white fingers fumble in the blue lights of the garage. The lights seep over her skin, sticky and clean, the way disinfectant or hospitals taste. Her hands fly up like startled birds as the keys clatter to the floor in a rush of silver and noise.

**_The bar was hot, it's 2AM, it feels like summer_ **

The streetlights fly past, Annabeth’s hair whipping behind her. She can hear laughter over the roar of her engine, flitting through the mild air.

She turns the music up. If she sings along loud enough, the sadness might vanish into the night sky, too.

****

**_Happiness is a butterfly_ **

And it is blue, like his soul and smile. Like her lips after they kiss.

It is scarred and ugly, but it _works_ **,** and--

“Percy, it _works. We can still fix this –”_

“There is no _this_ anymore, Annabeth. It’s not good. You-“his anguish shakes the earth, “you cry yourself to sleep and it’s not ** _good,_** wise-girl. I’m not good.” His fragile, mortal body trembles as he sinks to the floor when the door shuts. His muffled screams soak through his hands.

**_Try to catch it like every night_ **

But their hands on my body feel don’t feel like yours and their smiles are bland, faces grey, Interchangeable. They taste like normalcy and bleed red, red, red. I forget their names most of the time. (why can’t I forget yours?)

Perseus Jackson

Baby, what have you done (to me)?

**_It escapes from my hands into moonlight_ **

Happiness runs through my fingers like milky bathtub water.

The thing about butterflies is that they are fragile creatures.

**_Every day is a lullaby_ **

I’ve deleted all my old playlists. Their voice sounded too much like yours on our way back from Paris. A lot of things had to leave, actually.

You should have seen Pipes’ face when she came to visit and my apartment was empty.

You should have seen her face when she realised, I was, too.

**_Hum it on the phone like every night_ **

Your voice on repeat, old voicemails scratching over the darkness in my room. My breaths are shallow, and quiet. Yours are not. Words gush out, flowing out of the small phone, oozing into the tear-stained sheets. Hues of gold and beauty light up the room, spilling from your young lips. You don’t talk like that anymore.

**_Sing it for my babies on the tour life_ **

Shaky videos of your singing, faded colours and vivid eyes. Our friends cheering: the backdrop to our tumbling. The video ends, the last image is one of us, your arms wrapped around me as we twirl around, and around.

**_Ah-ah_ **

****

**_If he's a serial killer, then what's the worst_ **

**_That can happen to a girl who's already hurt?_ **

Hurt by you, boy. Pretty boy, deadly boy. Your smiles are dented like broken armour and your bodies insides bloom blue and green and purple.

Your ribs keep me out when I try to steal back all the parts of me I forgot at ~~home~~ your place.

My hands come back bloody, crimson tainting your sweater.

**_I'm already hurt_ **

But hurt means healing. Mending. Means stark white bandages and the golden glow of ambrosia, the lazy flow of nectar. Means screaming, crying and praying to all the gods above.

**_If he's as bad as they say, then I guess I'm cursed_ **

Aphrodite snarls at me in my dreams. Guess she doesn’t like my prayers.

**_Looking into his eyes, I think he's already hurt_ **

Foam gathers on the edges of the sea, fluffy grief settling heavy on the grey sands. Your voice cracking when you scream at me sounds like cliffs collapsing into the raging seas.

You don’t get wet but your hair sticks to your forehead, slick with salty sweat as you bolt upright every morning.

**_He's already hurt_ **

Trauma curls around your limbs, sinking its dull claws into scarred skin.

The beast stares at me with dark eyes as you sink to the ground again, eyes unseeing. I don’t even know what caused it this time. Frantic words rush out; I am useless, helpless. Again.

I don’t know what to do. Maybe the gurgling whilst brushing teeth sounded too much like a soldier choking. Maybe my mumbled words sounded too much like Zoe gasping for breath. Maybe my thoughts had drifted too far, eyes gone a little too blurry, a little too dead. Maybe, maybe, maybe. Maybe I should go.

**_I said, "Don't be a jerk, don't call me a taxi"_ **

A different night, this time. The difference: you don’t cry, I do. The difference: I don’t want to go. The difference: This feels final.

**_Sitting in your sweatshirt, crying in the backseat_ **

The taxi driver knows me by name. “Let him be, gal.” Maybe. “There’s a lot of fish in the sea.” Yes, but not-- not him.

**_Ooh, oh-oh_ **

“I don’t want fish”, I cry,” I want him.”

I want his laugh and smile, long limbs and warm hugs. Freshly baked cookies, lazy smiles. I want movie nights and stargazing. I want the colourful corals and the sunlight spilling over his body, I want- I want.

**_I just wanna dance with you_ **

The driver doesn’t let me pay. Pity stains the air.

The album falls to the floor, shaking me out of the haze. No, seaweed-brain, it’s not the noise but the photos themselves. We could look at them together? But if you were here I wouldn’t have to look at them. Do you want to come over anyways? Probably not.

**_Hollywood and Vine, Black Rabbit in the alley_ **

I look at the photos alone, moments long gone frozen forever. Our smiles are gentle and soft, hands interwoven, standing a little too close together. Your tux brushes against my red dress, a corsage of flowers winding around my tanned arm. As I close my eyes I can almost feel your warm fingertips brushing over it, fumbling with the closure.

As I close my eyes I can almost see-

**_I just wanna hold you tight down the avenue, oh-oh_ **

Your eyes going wide when I go down the stairs, dress dragging behind me. I have never felt this pretty, never been as happy as in your arms.

**_I just wanna dance with you_ **

Your eyes held that special glint when you asked me to dance with you. I’m sure mine did, too when I placed my hand in yours.

**_I just wanna dance_ **

My cheeks hurt, face flushed with colour as I lean toward you, the arms of our friends wrapped around us. The night smells like fireflies and the warm glow of the sun. I can almost-

****

****

**_My baby, I just wanna dance (Dance)_ **

Our legs dangle from a Parisian roof, the mild sun smothering us in affection. A mop of black shifts beneath my fingers carding through it. Your face is smooched against my book, drooling all over it but I don’t really mind. At that moment, I loved you more than any knowledge and all wisdom the world had to offer.

**_With you (Dance)_ **

Your skin is soft like silk.

**_Baby, I just wanna dance (Dance)_ **

Thanksgiving at Sally’s, loud and homely. Your arms flail wildly, narrowly missing the blue coke glass. Paul’s sleeve is drenched with sauce, I am drenched with love.

Sally gifts me with new earrings and a mom.

(I haven’t called her in a long time.)

**_With you_ **

My eyes snap open, the faded taste of turkey still coating my tongue. The keys cut deep ridges into my hands as I rip the car door open.

**_Left the canyon, drove to the club_ **

I am a predator, smudged mascara is my war painting. The too-short skirt: scales, waiting to be shed. Lingering gaze: call me medusa. You won’t stop me.

**_I was one thing, now I'm being another_ **

All recklessness has long left. I rather miss it.

**_Rolled down to Sunset in the truck_ **

The music is loud and I feel a little better. Just a little. Small steps, baby steps.

**_I'll pick you up if you're in town on the corner_ **

(You’re not)

Might be better, baby.

**_Ah-ah_ **

****

**_Happiness is a butterfly_ **

**_We should catch it while dancing, I_ **

Or I could just keep it to myself. My body races around itself in the freezing night, arms raised high, high, high.

**_Lose myself in the music, baby_ **

My thoughts scream morbid lyrics in anguished choirs, terrified to fall off the rails in this downward spiral.

**_Everyday is a lullaby_ **

And you will never again hear my melody, Perseus Jackson.

**_Try to catch it like lightening, I_ **

Watch the butterfly, babe, just watch how-

I snap the album closed, the butterfly’s wings twitching one last time before stilling, twisting around the book’s corners brokenly. Just another shattered memory in an album of shards.

**_Sing it into my music, I'm crazy_ **

****


End file.
